


In Need of a Fix

by SapphicReverie (Stella_STARgazer)



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 03:31:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21206681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_STARgazer/pseuds/SapphicReverie
Summary: Joan releases tension after Doreen's fall and slotting Jess for insubordination.





	In Need of a Fix

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompt suggestions/requests on Twitter and this is one provided by the wonderfully talented @joansglove. I hope it satisfies your craving! :)

It’s barely noon and already she’s got a splitting headache and the resolve that tames the beast within is on the verge of crumbling. Marching into the outer admin office she makes a beeline for her door, not stopping to make eye contact as she addresses her secretary at the desk. “Hold my calls. I am to have zero disturbances for the next hour.” She growls, passing through her office door and snapping the blinds shut as she closes it forcibly and engages the lock.

She’d barely slept last night, after her failed attempt to reconcile whatever had gone sour between her and Vera, so she’d already arrived in a foul mood and the accident with Doreen had set her further on edge. Then Warner had just very nearly sent her over it. The sudden urge to wrap her hands around the insipid little shit’s throat and squeeze until the words and breath slowly stopped streaming from her mouth had been near overwhelming and she had to force herself to walk away as the guards dragged the deceptively saccharine wench to the slot.

Rounding the corner of her desk, she drops into her throne with a heavy sigh and reaches for her coveted clutch of pristine yellow pencils. Rolling them beneath her palm, she brings them across the gleaming black surface and begins to align them perfectly in an attempt to calm the rage simmering just beneath. Her long fingers tremble almost imperceptibly as she works and eventually she becomes frustrated with the exercise, shoving the pencils roughly and watching them apathetically as they tumble over the opposite edge onto the floor.

Suddenly, her thoughts wander to Doreen. Grateful that she and the child were unharmed, she couldn’t help but feel equal gratitude that the incident had occurred and provided her with a perfect excuse to place her in protection. From Doreen’s report, it had only been an accident, but she simply would not risk any harm coming to her or the child. She’d wanted to do it a while ago, but knew she’d have a hard fight with the gregarious peer worker but this incident had instilled enough fear in the young woman that she knew she wouldn’t put up more than a half-hearted protest. Doreen was special; she needed to be protected and she’d go to any lengths to be her white knight.

Thinking of the rubenesque woman begins to soothe her agitated mind and she turns with a hint of a smirk to her computer linked to the CCTV system. She finds the file she seeks identified only by date and location in the system history and clicks it, the saved footage coming to view on the widescreen. The footage is from last spring, when the garden project had only just gotten under way. Thanks to the new equipment that was ordered to keep surveillance on the area, the image is in high definition. Dragging her tongue across her bottom lip, she leans back in the wide leather chair and releases the buttons of her jacket as she watches the playback before her. 

_ Doreen is on her knees digging with a spade in the wet, black earth. The sleeves of her teal hoodie are pushed up to her elbows and ringlets of her curls fall around her face. Her teal trackies are pulled taut against the swell of her rounded thighs, which flex and contract as she digs. _

Dark eyes watch the screen in appreciation and she settles a little lower in her chair, nostrils flaring as she continues to watch the young woman working.

_ Lifting a forearm to her head, Doreen wipes the sweat from her brow and leans back on her haunches. Setting the spade aside, she unzips her hoodie and slips it off of her buxom frame. A band of sweat makes her thin white shirt cling to the expanse of skin beneath her heavy breasts. _

Releasing a steady breath, she reaches for her tie and draws the knot loose, allowing the tails to fall freely around her neck. As she watches the screen, ivory fingers fall to the buttons of her crisp white shirt, releasing just enough to grant access to her breasts. She snakes a hand beneath the placket and finds the soft flesh, kneading gently.

_ Using her discarded hoodie, Doreen wipes the sweat from between her ample bosom. _

Beneath the delicate sheer lace of her bra, she feels her nipple pucker and rise to meet her touch. With a deep inhale she slips long fingers into the cup and takes the rising nub between forefinger and thumb. She pinches the stiff bud and her mouth falls open as she tugs hard and twists the rosy flesh until she feels the burn that sends a jolt straight to her cunt.

_ Doreen drinks from a bottle of water, then pours a small trickle into the valley of her breasts. Hard peaks suddenly rise on the swells beneath her shirt and her eyes flutter closed as she lifts her face to the bright sun.  _

Bottom lip drawn between her teeth, her right hand falls to the waist of her black slacks, slowly releasing the button and zip as she continues the teasing assault on her breast. A sharp inhale, then a measured sigh escapes from parted lips as her fingers slip beneath the band of her panties and dive into the inky curls between her thighs. She rakes her nails across her mons as she makes the slow trek to her hot slit. Pressing firmly, her middle finger falls into the divide and a small gasp escapes at the pleasurable sensation.

Gentle at first, she applies pressure to the hood above her clit, making small, tight circles with the tip of her finger. Her breathing slows, her muscles relax and the beast that had been braying goes silent. She continues her measured caresses and watches the screen through her hooded gaze.

_ Doreen has switched rows and now sows seeds with her back to the camera, her trackies now pulling tight against her ass and dipping low to show the dimples above her cheeks. _

Parting her thighs further, her ring finger joins the middle and they make a dip towards her center, collecting her arousal as they divide on their journey back to her clit, squeezing it between their grasp before rejoining to continue the tight circles that increase in pressure with every other rotation.

Pleasure now pulling her focus, onyx eyes slip closed as she continues to massage her rising clit. Eventually needing more, she removes her hand and quickly shoves her slacks down her long thighs. Dipping back beneath thin lace, her hand instantly returns to the liquid heat between them. She continues to massage her swollen sex as her mind conjures images of the young indigenous woman; of her smooth cappuccino skin and her brilliant smile. Her clit twitches as frantic fingers swirl around it and she feels the fresh flood of arousal as she dips toward her entrance.

She pictures them in the laundry next, as her fingers trace her inner frills and draw milky secretions up to lubricate her now aching clit. She feels the flannel of Doreen’s pajamas between her fingers as she visualizes fastenting the loose button as she gazes into her wide, doe eyes. When she recalls the phantom heat of Doreen’s breast against her knuckles, she gasps and shoves two fingers roughly into her clenching heat.

Her palm slams against her clit as she fucks herself hard and fast, her free hand flying up to clutch roughly at her breast. Her cunt pulses as she continues her feverish pace toward release. In, out, in, out, she pumps herself until her legs begin to shake and she bites her bottom lip hard to quiet the moan that threatens to escape. One final pump then she draws soaking fingers back to her clit, circling fast and hard as the orgasm finally crests, twisting her mouth into a silent scream as it draws her back in a high arch off the leather throne. In her mind, Doreen moans as she takes that first sacred bite of ice cream.

Her left hand drops from her breast and clutches the arm of the chair tightly as her chest concaves and she thrusts her fingers once more into her cunt. Her walls clench around the intrusion instantly and she doubles forward as a second orgasm rips apart her insides. She pants heavily as she grows stiff and the orgasmic tremor surges through her. Stilling her fingers, she gasps as the last chord of pleasure plucks her body, leaving her breathless.

Finally, she draws her fingers out and shudders at the strong pulses that seize her cunt then shoot down milky thighs into her toes. After a long moment to enjoy the dissipating waves of ecstasy, she eventually rises and slips her uniform back into place before tidying herself in the en suite. Stepping back into her office, an idea too good to pass up comes to her.

Fasting the buttons of her jacket, she gives a final tug to the hem, a coy smile accompanies her post-orgasmic flush as she exits her office to make a trip to isolated protection.


End file.
